


and when you kiss me / i am happy enough

by avosettas



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: ...probably, 19th Century, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Historical Hetalia, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:27:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24399481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avosettas/pseuds/avosettas
Summary: Norway looks pained. “Sweden and I are, after all, married.”“We were, too.”“Yes, and it wasn’t just formality, you know that.” Norway leans back, pulls Denmark’s hand close to him. “This is formality. A personal union, and so the government expects us to… act the part, so to speak.”(BTB Prompt: Happy Infidelity)
Relationships: Background Norway/Sweden (Hetalia), Denmark/Norway (Hetalia)
Kudos: 43
Collections: Banned Banned Together Bingo 2020, Banned Together Bingo 2020





	and when you kiss me / i am happy enough

**Author's Note:**

> takes place sometime after the treaty of kiel (1814) and the swedish-norwegian war (1814). 
> 
> tfw u try 2 write historical fic but it ends up being sappy dennor instead...

There’s a knock on the door, late at night, long after he’s put both Iceland and Greenland to bed. 

Denmark places his empty bottle down on the table, as quietly as he can, and reaches for the axe leaning against the wall, the one Norway always said had no place in the house. 

Norway isn’t here right now, and it’s unlikely he’ll be back, so Denmark grabs the axe, the weight familiar in his hands, and moves towards the door. 

Another knock. 

He opens the door and raises the axe. And drops it almost immediately. 

Norway is slightly disheveled, but Denmark would have to be made blind and deaf and possibly worse before he would be unable to recognize _Norway_ , of all people. 

“Nor,” he says stupidly. 

“Dan,” Norway replies, less stupidly. “May I come in?” 

“It’s your house,” Denmark says, stepping out of the way. 

“It used to be,” Norway agrees, stepping over the threshold and into the candlelight. His hair and eyes are duller than Denmark remembers, though he looks like he’s been eating better. “Where are the children?” 

_’Course he came to see them,_ Denmark thinks, slightly disappointed. “Asleep,” he says aloud. “‘S late.” 

Norway nods, looking vaguely troubled. “May - may I go see them?” 

“Don’ wake ‘em,” Denmark responds simply, moving to clean the dining table. “They haven’t been sleeping well since…” 

“Of course.” He pauses a moment, then adds, “I’d prefer if they… didn’t know I’d been here, to be honest,” Norway responds, looking pained. 

“... You came to see Emil an’ Maalia, but you don’t want them to know,” Denmark repeats, dumbfounded. 

“I came here to see you, idiot,” Norway responds. He stares at Denmark for a moment, then looks away. “I’d be a terrible big brother if I didn’t at least look in on the children, though.” 

Denmark blinks owlishly at the space where he’d been, and then sits down after a few minutes. He hears a door creak open, and then back shut, before Norway reappears. He sits down at the able opposite Denmark. 

“You came to see me?” Denmark asks finally. Norway looks at him as if he’s just asked whether people lay eggs (which Iceland, as a toddler, had once asked). 

“Did you think I wanted to leave?” Norway questions back. “My people wanted independence.” 

“... Did you?” 

“I didn’t want to leave you,” Norway replies, reaching out to grab the hand that Denmark has left resting on the table. Denmark closes his eyes and sighs. 

“I miss you.” Norway nods silently. His hand is calloused and familiar in Denmark’s own. “... Does Sweden know you’re here?” 

“... I think he figured it would happen, eventually,” Norway states simply. “He’s not as stupid as you’d like to believe, Matthias.” 

“... Do you call him by his name, too?” After Norway had gone, Denmark had erupted on Greenland for calling Sweden by his name. Iceland had exploded back. 

“It would be odd if I didn’t.” Norway looks pained, and pulls his hand away. “We are, after all, married.” 

“We were, too.” 

“Yes, and it wasn’t just formality, you know that.” Norway leans back, pulls Denmark’s hand close to him. “This is formality. A personal union, and so the government expects us to… act the part, so to speak.” 

“The government can fuck itself,” Denmark grumbles bitterly, letting Norway play with his fingers. Otherwise he’ll end up breaking something. 

“You didn’t mind it so much when we were married,” Norway laughs quietly, and Denmark calms immediately - he would move mountains for that laughter. 

“‘Cause we’ve been in love since before the damn government existed,” he responds softly. “They’re gonna be mad if they find out you’re here, aren’t they?” 

“Do you think I care?” Norway’s eyes sparkle with something that Denmark can’t quite name. “I love _you_ , you idiot, I don’t care what Berwald’s government says. They can make me marry him, but that’s _all_.” He sighs, drops Denmark’s hand back onto the table. “They can’t make me love him, or even tolerate him. And we both know he’s just using me because he misses Timo.” 

“He fucked you?” 

“... If we’re being fair, I fucked him,” Norway grins mischievously, and Denmark feels privileged to know that only he ever sees this side of Norway. “It’s a mutual thing, I suppose - while he was pretending I was Timo, I was pretending he was you.” 

It makes Denmark inexplicably mad, and Norway can see it, apparently. “Oh, don’t get like that,” he says, slightly dismissively. “You know how it is.”

“I really _don’t_ , Sig,” Denmark replies, voice quiet with rage. 

“... I suppose not,” Norway agrees. “But only because the only similar union you were ever in was with _me_.” 

Denmark is quiet for a moment, and then he stands and moves to the other side of the table. Leans to hold Norway as tightly as he can. “I want you to come back,” he mumbles, voice cracking a little. His anger has faded, replaced by the sadness he’s been busy drinking away since the stupid treaty was signed. “Just you. You as a person.” 

Norway sighs and leans into the embrace. “I would if I could, Matthias. You know that.” Denmark buries his face in Norway’s hair. “I just happen to be stuck with a government that gets thrown about at the whim of stronger ones like yours and -” 

“Don’t talk about him,” Denmark interrupts, muffled. “Every time someone says his name I want to kill him.” 

“... I got unlucky with governments, then.” Norway says finally. “Come here.” And he pulls Denmark down to his level by the elbow and kisses him softly. “I’m married to him because I have to be, not because I want to be. You know that.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I love you.” 

“... I love you, too.” Denmark sighs. “Please don’t leave again.” 

Norway’s fingers card through his hair. “I’ll come back.” 

“What if he stops you?” 

“You really think I give a shit? I’ll tell them I’m visitin’ Ice,” Norway replies. “Can’t stop me from seeing my little brother and sister, now, can they?” 

“I guess not. They might try, though,” Denmark agrees. 

“Hm, I doubt it. They might not even find out. And if they think I’m just visiting my little siblings…” That mischievous smile again, the one only Denmark ever sees. “Is it so bad if I also see you?”


End file.
